


Somethin’ Better

by NightOwl1600



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Gotham by Gaslight (2018)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, Batdad, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a bad parent at first, Bruce Wayne is fatherly and you can't change my mind, But He Gets Better, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Everyone loves Alfred - Freeform, Finding a Family, Gen, Gotham by Gaslight Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Selina Kyle is the best pseudo mom ever, family fic, learning to love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:12:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOwl1600/pseuds/NightOwl1600
Summary: With Gotham’s “Jack the Ripper” caught, Bruce Wayne is off the hook and back to the same old same old, or so he thinks. He hadn’t known Alfred was serious about those three street boys being his! Now he has to learn to juggle his night life, day life, and new found family life (as well as trying to date Selina), but a new danger lurks in the streets of 19th century Gotham, one that threatens something much more close to the Batman.OR the one were Bruce learns how to love by going through traumatic life experiences (again)OR OR Despicable Me —Gotham by Gas Light edition





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> IM ADDING SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE SO IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED IT DON'T READ THIS PLS WATCH THE MOVIE FIRST ITS FANTASTIC
> 
> That is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest, this is going to be written very very slowly and without a schedule for new chapters. ITs whenever I finished, but mark my words, I. WILL. FINISH. THIS.
> 
> Any comments, suggestions, or things you want to see in this story? Leave it in the comments. I'm in the early stages of writing right now, so anything goes really. I have an outline, but I still need to actually write the chapters, so it could always change. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!

_“It was all phony anyway. We'll make somethin' new, somethin' better.”_

Dickie remembers that night not so long ago, when the Batman had led him and his brothers to a better path; away from crime and Big Bill, and straight into Sister Leslie. But so much has happened since then. Sister Leslie’s murder, Alfred Pennyworth giving them jobs, saving Batman and Ms. Kyle from that fire at the fair, and now, being adopted by the richest man in Gotham.

Him, Jason, and Lil Tim stood on the front step of Wayne Manor. It was way bigger than the house Mr. Wayne had at the city, and definitely better than anything he had ever stayed in. All in all, it was pretty intimidating for Dickie.

Some journalist and news people were there too. Dickie guessed they were all trying to get the juicy scoop on one of Gotham’s wealthiest. He could imagine the headlines already “After Being Falsely Charged for Murder, Prince of Gotham Takes in 3 Homeless Orphans.”

Should it bother Dickie that a rich man wants to adopt all three of them, together, right after he had just been accused of murder? Probably. Does it bother him? Not really. Firstly, this was the best deal any of them had gottem in their entire lives. Secondly, Dickie had pretty much put one and one together. Considering all their encounters with the Batman, and how it was usually because Mr. Wayne’s butler had asked them to “help on a job,” Dickie figured that Mr. Wayne and Batman had to be connected somehow, if they weren’t the same man. He thought his brothers might have known too, but nobody said anything.

“Come along now boys, Master Bruce should be coming home from work soon and I think he would be delighted to spend the evening with you all,” Mr. Pennyworth said as he opened the door and rushed the boys in. Dickie saw Jason stiffen at that comment though, and he could guess why.

Jason was scared. But he thought better than to ask at that moment, with Mr. Pennyworth around to hear them and all. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything except the beauty of the manor. 

If it looked big on the outside, it was even bigger on the inside. Intricate patterns and carvings decorated the main entry. Furniture was fluffed, expensive looking, and dust free. The floor seemed to sparkle bellow their feet. In front of them was an awe-inspiring chandelier and grand staircase that led to a second floor with even more places to explore. Dickie could get used to this. 

“Keep close children,” My. Pennyworth chided, “Its quiet easy to get lost in here. Leave your bags here and we can take a tour around the estate. Does that sound fine to you?”

“Yea Mr. Pennyworth,” Dickie replied, wide eyed in amazement, “That sounds great!”

“Very well, young Master Richard. And please, just Alfred will do.”

***

The estate was enormous. The entire thing could probably fit the entire city of Gotham, or so Jason thought. The kitchen was filled with good tasting food, there were enough beds and pillows to make an entire pillow kingdom, and the yards were so clean he wondered if he had crossed into some kind of magical fantasy world adults are always telling kids about.

But the long, astonishing tour made Jason’s feet hurt. Who knew walking around the entire house was so tiring? He should’ve expected it though, the house was really big. _Big enough to hide secrets in,_ he thought to himself as shiver crept down his spine.

Mr. Pennyworth—Alfred—had left them in the library to do as they please. It was the perfect opportunity for some real serious talk with the boys.

“Dickie, Lil Tim, anythin’ seem…off to ya here?” Jason started, staggering closer to Dickie, “Like, I don’t know, somethin’ just don’t feel right. I think we should ditch.”

“What?!” Tim asked in shock, “This is the best place we’ve been in, since…since forever! There’s food and beds and everything. Why would we leave?”

“Nah Lil Tim, I think I get where Jason’s coming from,” Dickie offered, “Mr. Wayne was just accused of crime, so it’d be good on his image to help a bunch of charity cases, especially ones from Sister Leslie’s.”

“Maybe it has somethin’ to do with him being Batman?” Tim suggested innocently.

An aggressive hush came from both of the older boys followed by their eyes shifting about the room to make sure they were really alone. Once the cost was clear, Dickie spoke again.

“You can’t just go around saying that Timmy. It’s a secret and I don’t know if we’re even supposed to know about that.”

“Sorry, but its kinda hard to miss Dickie,” Tim countered plainly, “I mean, with Mr. Pennyworth asking us to help the Batman all the time. Its obvious.”

“Okay, fellas, but the real question is why would the Batman, or Mr. Wayne, or whatever you wanna call him, wanna adopt us?” Jason said, pointing out the elephant in the room.

“I don’t really know, Jay. What do you think?” Tim’s curiously piqued. 

“I don’t think somebody would just give us somethin’ for free without expectin’ somethin’ in return. At least not rich guys like Mr. Wayne. Batman or no Batman, this guy wants somethin’ from us.”

“Could be because he knows we know who he really is. It also could be because it makes him look better to the rest of the world, ya know, considering he was accused of murder,” Dickie explained logically. 

“But he’s innocent!” Tim countered. 

“I know Lil Tim, but that doesn’t mean he’s all good,” Dickie put his arm around the younger boy. “Look kiddo, we both know that there are bad people and good people out there. Its just that sometimes its hard to tell who’s who.”

“But he saved us from Big Bill, and he saved Ms. Kyle from the Ripper, and he saves a bunch of people everyday,” Tim tries to argue.

“But that doesn’t explain why he wants us in his manor with him!” Jason yells in frustration. “He sends people who need help to people who give help. He sends orphans to orphanages, not to his stinkin’ manor Tim! So if we’re here, we must have somethin’ he wants!”

“What are you trying to say Jason?” Dickie gripped Tim a little tighter and instinctively moved closer to Jason. 

“You know what I’m trying to say Dickie,” Jason whispered to the other boys, “I’m saying that he wants us here, in his manor, far, far away from the rest of the city, or anyone besides him and the butler, for a very specific reason.” The ominousness of the accusation was oozing into Jason’s voice as he continued. “I think he either wants murder us.”

“Jason!” Dickie exclaimed covering Lil Tim’s ears. “You can’t just say stuff like that! At least not in front of—“ Dickie made a nod with his head to Tim, who was looking both confused and terrified. “You’re gonna scare him.”

“But think about it Dickie!” Jason waved his arms in the air trying to explain. “There’s no one here we can go to for help, so even if we screamed, no one’s gonna to hear it. We’re too far away! There’s also a giant yard and an entire cemetery where he could bury the evidence if he needed too. And that’s not to mention the rest of this huge stinkin manor and all the things he could be hiding in it!”

“Ya know what,” Jason continued almost frantically, “I bet there’s even some secret door somewhere in here and I bet they’ve been watching us this entire time!” Jason began throwing books off the library shelf in order find the secret door he was talking about. “Come out of there ya cowards!”

“Jay! Stop!” Dickie shouted, abandoning his place next to Tim and trying to yank Jason away from the books, “No one’s watching us! You’re freaking out! Just stop!”

Dickie pulled Jason from the shelves and turned him around, only to see Jason on the verge of tears. “I don’t wanna be here Dickie! I wanna go back to the streets! I feel safer there!” Jason’s eyes scanned the room as if he was looking for a means of escape. “I don’t wanna die here!”

Dickie pulled Jason in for a hug. “I know Jay. I know. Nobody’s gonna die or whatever alright?” He tried to comfort the younger boy, squeezing tighter, “I know how you feel about grown-ups, and I know you’re scared, but I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, or Lil Tim. You guys are my brothers, even if we ain’t related. Okay? I won’t let Batman or Mr. Pennyworth or Mr. Wayne get close to you if that’s what you want.”

Jason tried to hold back his sniffles, but the hiccups and whimpers under his breath had already given him away. He leaned into Dickie as they fell within the piles of books he had flung from the shelves. “I promise,” Dickie soothed as Tim joined them in their hug on the ground, “I promise we’re gonna be okay. Have I ever broken a promise Jay?”

Jason shook his head. Dickie had always come through for them when they were on the streets. Jason trusted him. “No. Not ever.” Jason answered in a soft voice, leaning on Dickie with his head hidden within the hug.

“Then don’t worry. I promise I’m gonna keep you both safe. You guys are my brothers,” Dickie said as his grip tightened around Jason and Tim, “Nobody’s gonna hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Jason felt the fear already being quelled inside him, not all of it, but just enough. The three of them had held their own on the streets of Gotham. They’d surely make it through whatever lies ahead, so long as they stayed together.

***

Bruce Wayne: Richest Man in Gotham. Bruce Wayne: Playboy Billionaire. Bruce Wayne: The Batman. Bruce Wayne: Father of 3 Homeless Orphans.

One of those did not sound right to Bruce’s mind, and he doubted it was any of the first three. When Alfred had first suggested that he take care of the boys, Bruce thought that he meant to make sure they find good homes. He didn’t know Alfred meant adopt them and let them live in the manor. He hadn’t even used the manor in years, staying in the city was much nicer and more accessible instead of the huge house some ways outside the city.

It wasn’t that Bruce hated those kids, it was just that he didn’t necessarily like them either. With his day life as a playboy, and his night life as...well, the Batman, Bruce hardly saw the logic in adopting 3 boys. 

“They were under the care of dear Sister Leslie, but now that she’s gone...They need a home sir,” Alfred had argued. 

“And I can find them one. All together if they want. Just not here, not with me.” Bruce had tried to reason. “I don’t have time for them, Alfred. They’ll just end up neglected. It’s better to find them some other home.”

But Alfred had given him that look that he always had when he was disappointed with Bruce. It was the “I know you can do better look,” the one that ate at Bruce’s guilt until he gave in to whatever Alfred was asking.

“Fine, but if we see that they would be better off somewhere else, we’re sending them somewhere else.”

“Very well, Master Bruce.”

And that was how Bruce ended up on the steps of an adoption lawyer’s office, waiting for Selina to pick him up and bring him home because Alfred was busy taking care of the kids.

“Hello handsome. Need a lift?” Selina mused from her window as her carriage came to a stop in front of him. “It’ll cost you.”

“Oh really?” Bruce teased as he climbed with her, “How much?”

“Oh, maybe a night out. Just you and me. Alone.” She smiled and battered her eyes in a very promiscuous way as the carriage began its journey to Wayne Manor.

“I’d love to,” Bruce chuckled, but then hesitantly replied “but I can’t. I have…kids.”

That earned a good-hearted laugh from Selina. “It is nice though, that you’re doing this.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Bruce said thoughtfully. “I mean really, do you think those boys are better off with me then they are with a normal couple?”

“Normal?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Bruce,” Selina put a gentle hand on his knee, “Are you scared that you won’t be a good father?” Bruce made no move to answer, simply letting the question hang in the silence of the carriage. “No one really knows what they’re doing when they go into these things you know? Sister Leslie didn’t. Not when she opened her doors to the helpless. She told me so, yet she still managed to do it. And she did it so well. You’ll figure it out Bruce.”

“But Sister Leslie wasn’t the Batman. She wasn’t a playboy billionaire. She was a nun. A good role model. What do you think those boys will do when they see me going to all these parties and city gatherings and acting like a complete idiot?”

“Then don’t act like that.” Selina stated like that solved everything.

“Its not so simple,” Bruce tried to explain, “I do that to hide the identity of the Batman. No one expects Bruce Wayne to be Batman when he can’t even remember what day it is. But…now I have three boys looking up to me. What am I supposed to do? Its better to find them a more stable home.” He ended with a sigh and an exasperated look on his face.

“Bruce, how many couples do you know are willing to take in not one, but three boys who grew up on the streets and stole for a living?” Selina argued, “You are probably the most stable home they are going to get. And don’t even think about sending them to an orphanage. With their ages so far apart, they’re likely to be separated, which is probably why Leslie never sent them there.”

Selina leaned closer to him. Her eyes stared into his with both a burning passion and a compassionate plea. “I know its overwhelming Bruce, but just try.”

Bruce took in Selina’s features like he was memorizing them bit by bit. Her beautiful thin drawn lips, her strong, bold chin, and her ever expressive eyes. How could he ever say no to her?

“Alright. I’m going to try,” Bruce reluctantly gave in.

“Good,” Selina smiled, “I’m proud of you Bruce.” Bruce would deny it, but he certainly did feel a surge of joy knowing that he had made her happy. “And it looks like we’re here.”

The gates of Wayne manor came right into view of their window and Bruce readied himself for whatever was going to come next. With his promise to Selina in mind, he made his way out of the carriage and into the manor, sparring one last glance at her before the carriage drove away. 

“Okay,” Bruce said to himself, “here we go.”

***

“Hello Master Bruce,” Alfred greeted as he opened the door.

“Alfred,” Bruce said with a nod and paused, “Are the boys…”

“Yes sir, they’re resting in the library. I think it best for you to spend some time with them before supper.” Alfred took his bags and examined the files inside. “Are these the adoption papers?”

“Uh, yes,” he replied hesitantly, “You can leave it in my study. I still have to read over some of the paperwork.” Bruce could tell his unusual hesitancy was making Alfred suspicious. 

“Were there any problems at the adoption office Master Bruce?” Alfred’s gaze was dubious as he tried to see any signs of falsehood.

“Not a thing Alfred,” Bruce mustered, hiding his nervousness. Maybe he should have brought his bag to the study himself. “Everything went smoothly, aside from a few hiccups that I can fix. Actually…” he continued, “I can take the bag to the study. Its on the way to the library anyways.” Bruce smiled with as much charisma as he could.

Alfred gave an even more doubtful look as Bruce tried to take the bag back. He reconfigured his explanation. “I just thought that with more of us around, you’d appreciate what help he could get.”

Alfred sighed and said “Very well, sir. Here are your bags. Supper will be ready in half an hour.” With that, he handed Bruce the bags and walked back towards the kitchen.

Bruce took a relieved breath and looked into the bag, making sure Alfred couldn’t see its contents. While he hadn’t lied and the adoption papers, he did purposefully omit a small, insignificant part of the truth.

Maybe not exactly small and insignificant, but still. He was just taking some logical precautions, planning ahead. That was what he, the Batman, did best. Plan ahead for the worst, so that when it comes, it won’t take him by surprise. If he was honest with himself, he knew he would use it eventually anyways. With that in mind, Bruce strode into his study and set the bag among the piles of paperwork he had brought from his house in the city, careful to camouflage it so that Alfred would just pass it by like another work related contract. Then, he set his course for the library.


	2. Finding You Can Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOO NEXT CHAPTER IS UP. Also, if you think the paragraph lengths are too long pls tell me cause I'm kinda worried about those.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Gotham by Gaslight, or literally any of the characters because DC does. Also, I googled all the gymnastic history and before I realized what I was doing I was to far in. So disclaimer that my gymnastic history may or may not be accurate. Also all of my gymnastic things. Pls be nice. thank u.
> 
> Hope its cute!

After their little incident, Jason and Tim had fallen asleep on the armchair, probably tried from the outpour of emotions, which left Dickie to clean up the mess. It was just a couple books Jason had thrown to the ground in his fit, but Dickie was having a hard time trying to figure out where each one went. He knew that books were kept in specific orders for a reason, and that when one was out of place, people would know. He stacked them in little piles to make it look like he had at least been interested in reading them rather than throwing them, but reorganizing them back on their proper shelves was proving difficult.

So far, he was surrounded by three pillars of books, each about 4 to 5 books high. He thought about how he would explain himself to an adult in case someone walked in so that they wouldn’t get in trouble for messing up the library. The best he could come up with was that he was very interested in reading, despite having some difficulties. Heck, Jason was better at reading than he was, but at least if he used that as an excuse, Jason and Tim would be off the hook. 

Dickie understood why Jason was so apprehensive about being in the manor. He was right. It was far away from everything they ever knew, there were no neighbors so all they had was Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth, and the sheer size of the place did freak him out, just a little. 

A creek at the door drew away his thoughts as he turned to face the new comer. He was a tall, strong built, muscular man that any other day Dickie would force them to avoid lest they get into a serious brawl. But this wasn’t the crime ridden, low class, Gotham streets. This was the high class estate called Wayne Manor, and the person that just entered the room was none other than the man himself.

Bruce Wayne.

“Hello,” he rumbled. Dickie thought his voice was so deep it challenged the sound of thunder. “I’m Bruce Wayne,” he offered his hand out as he walked towards Dickie, “but you can just call me Bruce if you want.”

He shook his hand. “Hi sir, my name is Richard Grayson, but people just call me Dickie.” Bruce looked around and noticed the pile of books scattered around the floor. Dickie panicked for a second before regaining his composure. “Sorry, I was reading,” he quickly supplied.

“Ah,” the older man said as if he was still trying to come up with his next sentence. “do you like reading?” He picked up one of the books and skimmed through its pages. 

“Yeah, I like stories.” He replied, teetering from his toes to the soles of his feet. 

“But you’ve been reading the encyclopedias of biology and other life sciences,” Bruce stated blankly.

 _Dang it, should’ve checked_. “I just like to read whatever I can get my hands on,” he corrected. “There ain’t a lot of books on the streets.”

“Ah, of course.” The room was left in silence and awkwardness making both occupants feel vaguely uncomfortable. Dickie looked up to Mr. Wayne, only to see him struggling to think of something else to say.

“Where are the other two? Jason and Timothy?” he finally asked.

Dickie gestured to the armchair in the center of the room where the boys had fallen asleep. “They were tired,” he explained.

“I see.” Another pause. Dickie was getting very tired and antsy with this conversation. “Since they’re asleep, would you like to read some books you might enjoy? I have quite a few classics in here somewhere.”

Out of lack of anything better to do, Dickie agreed. He just hoped his reading skills could match whatever it was Mr. Wayne would pick.

“Here,” he said, leading the boy across the room and waved his hand towards the shelf, “this is all the classics we have in the manor. I have a few plays from Shakespeare. You might like this one, its Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift. Its about a traveler…who travels...to places.” He ended in more of a question than a statement. 

“Oh,” Dickie replied attempting to look mildly interested in the book. He skimmed through the pages and weighed the book in his hand. _Jason might like this_ , he thought. Jason loves reading.

“You don’t seem so thrilled about it,” Mr. Wayne interrupted his thoughts. 

“Oh, uh, sorry. I’ve just been reading all day,” he stated trying to make up an excuse.

“Yes, well, reading can get boring sometimes.” Neither of the two had much to say after that, struggling to find a way to change the topic or, at the very least, save them from the awkward silence. 

About two minutes had passed before Mr. Wayne spoke again. “Have you had a tour around the Manor? It very big and easy to get lost in.”

“Yeah, Mr. Pennyworth already showed us around when we got here. We saw all the floors, and the yard, and the kitchen and everything.”

“Has he shown you our small boxing area yet?” 

“Boxing area?” 

“Yes, right before you go out to the back yard, its just a few turns through the hallways and its there. The area also has a sort of gymnasium.” 

“Gymnasium?” Dickie asked, curiosity genuine.

“During ancient Greek times, its where athletes and soldiers trained. But mines isn’t exactly like the Greek ones since the Greek ones where open air but the one we have is inside. I did hear however that it was becoming popular again in Europe during one of my trips,” Bruce paused, realizing he was rambling, and nervously changed his tone. “Um, I can show you if you’re interested.”

Dickie considered it. He was interested. Athletics had always been more of his thing, and it would get them off the topic of books. Before he could say yes, however, he spared a glance at his sleeping brothers. They would freak out if he wasn’t there when they woke up.

Bruce seemed to notice. “We don’t have to wake them. It’ll be a quick trip and we’ll come back before they wake up,” he offered.

Dickie looked around again at the piles and piles of books he had stacked. “What about the mess?”

Bruce looked puzzled at this. “Um, we can just…” He picked up the one stack and stuffed it into the shelf, then did the same to the rest of the stacks. “There.”

“I thought books had a specific order they were supposed to be put in?”

“Ah, well, yes they do.” Bruce answered, taking in the scene of stuffed book shelves, “I just don’t know it.” Dickie gave him a skeptical look. “Alfred will fix it later.”

Dickie shrugged. It was better than him fixing it anyway. He followed Bruce out of the library and into the hallway. They wouldn’t be that long, and it was just going to be a quick look at it. He couldn’t help himself, he was really curious. Dickie gave one last glance to the boys on the chair. He’d be back before either of them noticed.

 

*** 

Bruce honestly had no idea what he was doing. He could admit that to himself at least. He tried to think of things he could say or do with the kids, but nothing really came to mind. The library had been incredibly awkward, especially since it hhad been a while since he had read most of the classics. Was Gulliver’s Travels about a traveler who travels to places? Probably? That’s what he understood from the title at least.

He was just lucky that Dickie seemed to like athletics more and was interested in seeing the box arena and gymnasium, or else he would have to make up more things about books he never read. To tell the truth however, he did enjoy the look on Dickie’s face when he showed him the room.

To Bruce, it wasn’t that big, but, to Dickie, it was huge. The ceilings were very nearly two and a half stories high. Width wise, it was around the size of two master bedrooms, so there was room for a small boxing ring and a pseudo-gymnasium, as well as some benches.

Dickie’s eye grew wide in amazement as he looked around. Bruce couldn’t help the small grin that landed on his face. The kid was practically bouncing from one wall to the next to look at the different equipment and such. 

“What are these?” he asked Bruce, pointing to a set of two high railings. 

“Those,” Bruce replied, “are called parallel bars. You use your upper body strength and hold on to these to carry yourself up. 

“Are those parallel bars too?” Dickie asked again eagerly.

“No, those are called horizontal bars. You can do a lot of different moves that get you from the higher one to the lower one, or just flip around one of the bars.”

“How come I haven’t seen these anywhere else?” Dickie was obviously very impressed with the whole place. Bruce felt like things were actually going pretty well.

“When I traveled to Europe, I met a fine man named Johann Friedrich GutsMuths, who is pioneering gymnastics in Germany. He’s still figuring everything out, but I liked it so much I had one made here in Gotham,” Bruce answered hoping it would amaze Dickie some more. 

“Wow,” he whispered under his breath. “It sure is something Mr. Wayne.” His eyes lingered upon two rings that were suspended in the air by ropes.

“Those are the rings. You have to hold up yourself using your upper body,” Bruce pause for a moment, then suggested, “Why don’t you give it a try?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Dickie answered rather quickly, “I don’t want Jason and Timmy to be gettin any ideas about doing these, especially when I’m not around.”

Bruce paused. It dawned on him that Dickie was trying to grow up all too quickly. He was, after all, looking out for two younger boys, on the streets of Gotham no less. Bruce knew that had to take a sense of maturity that far surpassed Dickie’s age. Judging from the way he had been so guarded when Bruce first came into the library (yes, Bruce had noticed that), Dickie was probably just being protective of the younger two. On the streets, he might have had to keep them away from trouble, get them food, and places to stay. Here in the manor, however, Dickie wasn’t worried about thugs and muggers, but rather the complete stranger that was Bruce Wayne.

“Well, they aren’t around right now. I don’t think you have to worry about them getting any ideas,” Bruce encouraged. Dickie deserved to have a childhood that wasn’t revolved around surviving the streets and taking care of his younger brothers. It wasn’t fair. If his innocent joy was found in the rings, then so be it. “It could be fun,” he tempted.

Dickie gave Bruce a hesitant look. Bruce returned it with an encouraging one and prompted him nearer to the rings. Dickie seemed excited. He all but ran to the two rings and jumped to try and reach them. He missed by an inch or two.

“Here, let me help you up,” Bruce picked up Dickie so he could reach the rings. Once he got a grip, Bruce let go and watched as Dickie enjoyed his time in the air. He swung, spun, and lifted himself in the air. The kid had really good upper body strength. “How are you so strong?”

“Don’t know,” Dickie absent-mindedly replied with a smile. “Carrying Jason and Tim around all the time? They’re heavy.”

Bruce chuckled. The boy had a sense of humor he could appreciate. It felt good to laugh so naturally. He rarely ever caught himself laughing without it being some kind of charade for high society Gotham.

The momentary thought distracted Bruce long enough for him not to notice Dickie about to loose his grip. “Woah,” Dickie exclaimed as his hand slipped from the rings. Bruce ran to catch him just in time.

“Thanks Mr. Wayne,” Dickie said confidently. “Nice catch too, by the way.”

He smiled in return at the child in his arms. “Just Bruce is fine.”

“Thanks Bruce.” Dickie said somewhat hesitantly, and then beamed with a bright smile.

“Here I can teach you how its done,” Bruce said as he put Dickie down. He proceeded take off his office coat and grabbed the rings. “I’ve actually got quite a few tricks.” The duo went on like that for some time. Bruce would show a trick, and Dickie would try to copy it. It was…fun. At least Bruce thought it was. Maybe the whole adoption thing wasn’t such a bad idea.

Then suddenly, a yell came from the hallway. “Dickie! Dickie!” Tim shouted.

The smile from Dickie’s face quickly morphed into guilt for leaving his brothers by themselves in the library. He grabbed his things and left the gym without another word. Bruce wouldn’t say that he was a tad disappointed they had to end, but he did wish they could have done a few more things. He gathered his own items and followed Dickie out.

The boy was consoling the smaller child, who seemed to have been crying. “Its okay Timmy. I was just down the hall.” Bruce heard Dickie murmur as he wrapped Tim in a hug.

Tim cast an earnest gaze at his older brother. “I didn’t know where you went. When I woke up you were gone and I had a bad dream.” Bruce could see the child rubbing the tears from his eyes. He wanted to help, but thought better than to just intrude on the two. Instead, he stood awkwardly off a little down the hallway.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you guys where I was going.” Dickie replied.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

Dickie removed himself from the hug to check his shirt. It was indeed soaking wet from sweat. Bruce checked his own shirt, only to find that it too was sweat filled. Alfred would not be happy. “Oh, I was playing with Bruce. He has a boxing ring and this thing called a gymnasium with all these cool stuff. Its really fun. We can ask Bruce to show it to you.” Dickie answered.

Tim peaked over Dickie’s shoulder to see Bruce. He gave a small wave at the young boy in return, however, that did not alter the cautious look Tim was giving. Bruce decided it was a good time to introduce himself.

He walked to the pair and cleared his throat, “Ahem. Hi, my name is Bruce Wayne.” He smiled and offered a hand to Tim. The child looked up at him slowly as if trying to analyze him.

When no move was made towards the hand, Dickie spoke “Its okay, Tim. You can shake his hand if you want.” He nodded over towards Bruce, “He don’t bite.”

“Hi,” Tim started hesitantly, “I’m Tim.”

“Its nice to meet you, Tim.” Bruce replied as cheerfully as he could.

The two shook hands. It was foreign for Bruce to feel such a small, delicate hand grip his. Tim was young, far too young to be on the streets in Bruce’s opinion. Just then, the third boy emerged from the library room and quickly strode towards the rest of the group.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” the red haired boy asked furiously. He gave Bruce a hard, yet hesitant glare and questioned “And who’s that?”

“That’s Bruce Wayne, Jason,” Dickie replied calmly as he gestured towards Bruce. “We were just playing in the Bruce’s boxing ring and gymnasium. I didn’t want to wake you and Timmy up.” He shrugged and gave a small grin at the younger boy.

“And you must be Jason,” Bruce noted. Unlike the first two, Jason seemed quicker to anger and more guarded than even Dickie was. He tried to hide his fear behind a wall of anger, but Bruce could see right through him. The kid was terrified.

“Yeah. So what do you want?” Jason snapped back in reply.

“Jason! Be nice.” Dickie tried to scold him, obviously embarrassed of Jason’s sudden attitude.

Bruce was taken a back by the comment. It was sudden, but not really a surprise. He recalle these kids had come from the streets. The tough guy attitude was probably what kept them alive half the time.

But not here. Here, Bruce wanted these kids to feel at home. Not like they had to hunt and steal for their next meal.

“The real question here, Jason, is what do you want? You seem like you could use something to eat.” Bruce replied.

Jason seemed to consider the option of food, but remained guarded all the same. “What do you want in exchange?”

“Nothing Jason. I think Alfred would just like someone to appreciate his cooking. He really is the best cook you’ll ever meet.” Bruce finished with a gentle smile. It seemed like Dickie and Tim were already set on the idea of food.

“Fine, I guess. I’m kinda hungry anyways.” Jason admitted reluctantly.

Bruce smiled. “Alfred has probably already set up the table. You three will love it.”

With that, the group made their way to the dinning room. There was still some tenseness in the air, and a lot of distrust towards Bruce. It was understandable. If he was in there situation, he’d be reluctant to trust anyone too.

But maybe, just maybe, the adoption thing wasn’t such a bad idea.


	3. Back to Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am baack with more of this WIP. Sorry it took so long! Hope you all like it! I'm going to try to post faster, but I can't make any real promises.

Dinner had been quite interesting. Bruce had asked the boys about their backstories, how long they’d been on the streets, and what had happened to their parents. Most of those questions went unanswered or simply ended with a shrug. It was obvious that the three of them did not want to talk about their past; something traumatizing probably. 

And Bruce knew trauma when he saw it.

It was the little grief in Dickie’s eyes when Bruce mentioned taking them to the circus, and the frown Jason wore when he asked how long they’d been on their own, and even the small sigh Tim gave when anything about parents were mentioned.

These boys had been through a lot.

All he had really learned that evening was that the boys were not actually related, but rather all just street children that found each other and decided to make it a family. They had been watching each other’s backs for nearly a year and a half now. As far as Bruce could tell, they didn’t have any family left, which would explain why they had ended up in the streets and working for some abusive, alcoholic mugger.

But that was really all he knew when it came to backstory. He made a mental note to look into that later. He also found out, however, some more normal, menial things about the boys. It was obvious that Dickie liked athletics and had even asked Bruce to teach him some stuff. The other two boys wanted to as well, but Dickie was the most insistent about it.

Jason seemed to like reading. Bruce noted the way his eyes lit up when Dickie mentioned Guiliver’s Travels being in the library, and the entire shelf of classics that Bruce freely offered. While the boy was guarded, he quickly took the opportunity to dash back to the library and check out the books once dinner was over.

Tim was a lot harder to get to know. The older two children did most of the talking while the youngest just listened and watched. Bruce could almost call that look inquisitive, perhaps skeptical, but subtly analyzing. It was like he was judging Bruce’s every move and calculating what to do in response. There was just a slight smirk in his expression that made him look like he had already won a mental game of chess with Bruce.

All in all, the boys seemed like a cautious bunch (years of living by themselves on the streets were probably to blame), but not at all like trouble makers or hooligans you’d expect from the streets of Gotham. In all honesty, there were a very decent trio, which made it even harder for Bruce to lie to them. They were already very careful kids who didn’t trust easily. How would Bruce be able to lie to them about the Batman without feeling the guilt of double-crossing that fragile trust?

Admittedly, he was pretty sure they already had a clue, at least, to the relationship between Bruce Wayne and Batman. Alfred having the boys bring his equipment, then seeing Batman with Selina Kyle. Not to mention, when the boys did see Bruce and Selina together, they would eventually pick up the clues. It was only a matter of time. But that raised the a bigger problem; could he trust three children with his secret?

That was a problem for another day. At the present moment, the Batman needed to get back to work.

Once they had all said their goodnights, Bruce took to his study and into his secret cave below the manor. It wasn’t like his attic in the townhouse, that was well kept and easy to move around. Rather, the cave was exactly what it was; a cave. They had found it while renovating the manor years before. 

They had tried to make something out of it by extending the house into the cave, but that proved easier said than done. In result, they were left with some semblance of a large room with chipped stones, wet floors, and, ironically, bats on the ceiling. It wasn’t an ideal place to work, but with enough light, a bit of reorganizing, and some added tables and equipment, it was good enough. In addition, the cave also had a lot of room for Bruce to keep his bigger projects and tools, like his motorcycle.

The biggest downside was how far it was from the main city, but luckily, there was a secret passage way that lead right to a street he could take with his motorcycle. The cave wasn’t as great as his base in his townhouse, but it wasn’t that bad either.

As he suited up to leave the cave, Alfred came down with an exhausted look on his face. “Master Bruce,” he called, “Please do be careful out there. We wouldn’t want those boys to lose their new guardian on their first day.”

“I’m always careful,” Bruce grunted as he turned on the steam engine of his cycle and left the cave.

***  
Earlier that week, Selina had told him that the new commissioner wanted to meet the Batman and had asked her to pass the information on since, as the commissioner had said, she was “obviously in favor with the Bat.”

Somewhat true, Bruce had to admit.

Batman stood on the roof of the police department, waiting for the new commissioner to come out. He had prepared an escape plan in case it was a trap to catch him. While the police were no longer actively trying to arrest Batman, there were some encounters that might put him on their bad side. Better safe than sorry.

The rooftop door swung open and out walked the hefty, grumpy, Captain Harvey Bullock.

Or was it commissioner now?

“Batman,” Bullock greeted coldly. “Seems I was right about you favoring Ms. Kyle.”

“Commissioner, I presume?” Batman ignored the comment, trying instead to get straight to the point.

“Temporary. After the whole fiasco with Gordon, they needed a quick replacement. I was the most qualified at the time, but I think the higher ups want to hire someone from outside,” Bullock explained. “Speaking of which, you’re off the hook thanks to Ms. Kyle. She told us how you saved her and how Gordon threw himself into the fire, so you don’t have any accounts of murder on you.”

“Good to know, now why am I here?” Batman acknowledged impatiently. This was becoming too long of a conversation.

“Alright, look here Batman,” Bullock pointed at him aggressively. “I don’t want you to be here just as much as the next guy. I think police business should be left to the police, but unfortunately, that’s not how it’s going work now that people know you solved the Ripper case.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Because we need your help to solve another.”

Batman raised an eyebrow, hidden under the cowl. “What about?”

“Not long after you solved the Ripper case a few weeks ago, another set of murders were becoming prevalent. At first, we thought it was the Ripper and you got the wrong guy, but these murder were completely different,” Bullock grunted out the last part in frustration. He obviously didn’t like being wrong. “The murders were of children, all different backgrounds. Here.” Bullock pulled out some files from his coat and handed it to Batman.

Bruce browsed through the files. As it seemed, the kids go missing, either marked as kidnapped or run away, for some time, then their bodies are found at random locations in Gotham slum, usually with strange markings, like tattoos, on them.

“We don’t know what to make of it, Batman. So far, 7 children have gone missing, and 3 have been found dead. We don’t know about the other 4.”

“When was the most recent siting of any of these children?” Batman asked.

“That’s the thing, the most recent kid reported missing is a boy from a very rich family. Gregory Smith. He was last seen four days ago in school. After that, well no one knows. Because he’s been labeled together with these other cases, his parents demanded we bring you in on this because they heard about the Ripper case. We couldn’t say no because they fund our department.” Bullock sighed, “So don’t think for one second that I brought you in because I couldn’t solve this. I could have, but these damn rich people always have to snoop their noses in places where they have no business.”

“I’d hardly call the case of their missing child ‘none-of-their-business’ Bullock,” Batman countered. “I’ll look into the case and get back to you when I have something.” He tucked the files into his own coat 

As Batman turned away from the temporary commissioner, ready to disappear into the night, Bullock made one last request. “And Batman,” he said sternly, nearly furiously, “I don’t know if you’ve got any unfinished business with Gordon, but you stay away from any of that business now that he’s gone. God knows his kids are already dealing with a lot, with him being exposed and Mrs. Gordon confined.”

“Of course,” Batman huffed in annoyance. What did he do to even insinuate that idea? “I would never blame a child for someone else’s mistakes.”

“Good,” Bullock replied as though he was reprimanding a child. “Because those kids have done nothing wrong. They’re good, kind kids. He raised them well, like a good man would.”

“He was also a murderer.” Bruce supplied a tad forcefully.

“You think I don’t know that? You know, Gordon and I never did see eye to eye, but God, I did respect that man. It was a shock to all of us here in the department when we found out, when we saw the evidence in his house. Some of us didn’t want to believe it. Some still don’t. I suppose its hard to accept that one of our own was working against us, especially someone that seemed as genuine as Gordon. So don’t be surprised if some of my boys in blue aren’t exactly friendly with you. Some of them are still holding grudges” Bullock ended roughly, as if he were the one still angry. 

“This is Gotham, Bullock. There is corruption and deceit everywhere. Why do you think I’m here?” With that being said, Batman retreated back down the building, and into the darkness.

But as he made his way back to his motorcycle, he couldn’t shake the sadness that overcame him. He’d trusted Gordon, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. He was the only person in the police department Batman actually went to for information, and one of Bruce Wayne’s only real friends. Even after everything that had happened, it was still hard to accept Gordon was the Ripper all along. 

So instead of trying to process those emotions, Bruce flung himself into the case, skimming through the files before setting course for a new destination. One of the last siting of one of the children just happened to be with someone Batman was very well acquainted with.

Next stop, Big Bill’s hideout.

***  
Selina had already read the files on the missing children case. She was able to skim through when she swiped it from Bullock’s office during their meeting about the Batman (she always knew those pickpocketing skills were useful). She gave it back, of course, but that quick read was just enough time to identify the first place to look.

Tonight, Selina was going to get to the bottom of this case.

She couldn’t just stand aside while innocent children were being murdered. And just like the Ripper case, the police seem to mostly ignore the cases of the poorer children. There was so much evidence from children that came from lowerclass families, but as far as Selina could see, the police had completely overlooked those important clues that could be the key to solving this case.

Stupid, ignorant, biased policemen. It was no surprise that it was one of their own that was the Ripper.

Who was she kidding? She didn’t see it coming either. The courageous, good-willed Commissioner Gordon killed innocent, lowerclass women. It was no wonder Bruce conjured up the Batman. No one could really be trusted.

Selina made her way through the alleyways on the poorer side of the city. The clues from the case file showed that one of the poorer kids that went missing was last seen with Big Bill. Selina had heard about Big Bill from some of the kids she had met at Sister Leslie’s. Alcoholic, abusive, and used kids to do his dirty work, this man would have a solid case against him in court, if anyone ever took the time to catch him. She supposed the police just overlooked this one too.

As she made her way towards Big Bill’s favorite hangout, a figure moved quickly in an alleyway parallel to her’s. Strong build, gloved hands, trench coat, pointy ears; there was only one person that could be.

Bruce.

Or Batman, at the moment. Seemed like the two of them had the same idea of questioning Big Bill.

Selina quickly followed Bruce to one of the corners he had positioned himself in to spy on the bar, Big Bill’s favorite hang out. 

“Mrs. Kyle,” he greeted without even looking, eyes fixated on the scene going on inside. 

“Enough with the formalities, Bru—“

“Batman,” Batman quickly interrupted. “Don’t use my name here.”

Selina held up her hands defensively. “Sorry. But are we just going to watch from here or are we going to get some answers?”

“You saw the case file?” he questioned.

“Obviously,” she said plainly as she got her whip ready for a fight. “How do you think I guessed to talk to Big Bill. So lets hurry up. The more time we waste the more likely another child gets murdered.” Selina started walking toward the bar doors when Batman grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind the corner.

“No. I’m going inside, I’m going to talk to Big Bill. You are leaving,” Batman ordered sternly, but Selina was having none of it.

“Excuse me? But who gives you the right to tell me what to do?” she shot back and gave a glare that rivaled the Bat’s. She was not backing down.

She was somewhat surprised when Bruce didn’t stand down either. Usually men feared strong women. 

“Give me one good reason why I should leave?” she challenged.

“First, Batman doesn’t need a partner. Second, you don’t even have a mask to hide your identity. It’d be easy for someone to target you at any given time. Third, I don’t want people connecting the Batman to anything or anyone.” Batman supplied without hesitation.

“Okay, I asked for one, that was three, but,” Selina said, digging into her pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. She then placed it over her mouth and lowered her hat just a tad more so only her eyes were visible. “There. Now no one can see my face. Fixes problem two and three. As for problem one, get used to it, because I’m not backing off this.”

“Selina, I don’t need, nor do I want, a partner,” Bruce said a little impatiently, “We aren’t— “

Before Bruce could finish his sentence, a bottle hit the back of his head.

“Batman,” Selina shouted in alarm, getting in a defensive stance, whip in hand. 

“It’s the stupid Batman!” shouted a voice. Just behind Batman, Big Bill and a quite a few of his pals had exited the bar and spotted the two talking. Most of them were armed and ready for a fight.

“Hey Batman, we heard you messed with our buddy, Big Bill,” one of the men said, gesturing to Big Bill, who was also ready for a brawl. The other men of the group began to surround Batman and Selina. “So listen, out here on Gotham streets, we believe in an eye for an eye, and a beating for a beating,” he ended with a cruel grin. 

At least fifteen, large, drunk brutes had surrounded the pair and backed them to the wall. “Still don’t need a partner?” Selina asked Batman sarcastically.

“Hrn,” was all he said before the pair quickly sprung into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, tips, constructive criticism, and all that jazz is welcome!


	4. Books and Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im back baby. Hope yall like this.

After Bruce left, Alfred had finished cleaning the dishes from dinner then went about finding the manor’s newest guests. Bruce just didn’t understand how parenting worked—it wasn’t enough to expect children to be put to bed, he actually had to make sure they got to bed first. Bruce seemed to have overlooked that, as he did not, in fact, make sure they went to their rooms. That much was obvious from the shouting and giggling coming from the gym.

Alfred opened the door to see Little Timothy and Richard playing around with some the equipment. To Alfred’s surprise, Dickie seemed to have the knowledge and ability needed to use such things properly, and he sincerely doubted the lad could have learned all that from just an hour or so playing with Bruce.

“Ahem,” Alfred voiced to gain their attention. “It would seem to be well passed your bedtimes young sirs. I suggest that you head up to your rooms to get ready to sleep.” Though a suggestion, his tone was expressed with the utmost authority.

Dickie blushed a tad in embarrassment and Tim just waited for his brother’s response. “Sure,” he answered sheepishly, “sorry Mr. Pennyworth.”

“No need to apologize,” he supplied, “and please, Alfred would do just fine. Now do you remember where your rooms are?”

“The one’s with the view of the backyard?” Tim asked.

“Precisely, go head up there and get ready. I left enough hygiene products in there for all of you to use. There are also some clothes you can use before we buy you new ones,” Alfred explained as he noted the lacking person in the room. “And lastly, would you happen to know where Master Jason is?”

Dickie was hesitant to answer, but Tim quickly replied “The library.”

“Ah,” Alfred acknowledged. “You two can head upstairs. I’ll go to the library and let Master Jason know it’s time for bed. Then I’ll come up to help with anything you need.” 

Just as Alfred turned to head to the library, Dickie cleared his throat and hastily mentioned, “He’s reading.” Alfred turned back to look at the boy and noticed the well-hidden nervousness in his posture. “He probably doesn’t want to be bothered. He might be crabby, I can get him.”

Whether Dickie was nervous that Jason’s attitude would get them thrown out, or nervous for Jason, Alfred wasn’t sure, but if any of those boys were going to get comfortable living in the manor, they needed to know they could trust Alfred.

“It will be no problem Master Richard, I can deal with the young Master Jason just fine by myself. You must get ready for bed.” Without waiting for a reply, Alfred headed down the hallway towards the library, just as he heard Tim and Dickie head in the opposite direction towards their rooms.

Alfred rounded the corner into the library and found Jason, sitting at one of tables with a book and a small candlelight. From where he was, Alfred could hear Jason pronouncing the each syllable as he read.

“Late night reading, Master Jason?” Alfred asked as he walked in.

Jason startled and turned to watch Alfred approach him. The boy went from quietly and peacefully composed to guarded and skeptic in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, what’s it to ya?” he sneered.

“Nothing, it is quite a pleasant pass time, but not for someone as young as you,” Alfred replied. “Young children need sleep to grow, Master Jason, and I do believe its passed proper bedtime already.”

Jason shrugged and avoided eye contact. “I haven’t had a bedtime since I was a kid. And I don’t need one now.”

“You are a kid, Master Jason.”

“I mean, a kid like Lil’ Tim is a kid.” Jason answered, getting a little more aggravated. “We can take care of ourselves. We did it before, and in some hell of worse conditions.”

“Regardless if someone is taking care of you or not, sleep is important,” Alfred countered gracefully. This kid was just as stubborn as Bruce.

“Sleep ain’t as important as making sure you don’t get kidnapped,” the boy muttered under his breath. Alfred felt a twinge in his heart at that. He wasn’t sure if Jason meant for him to hear it, or if it was meant for him to feel bad, or if it was just a way Jason was expressing fear, but Alfred was sure he couldn’t just let it end like that.

As Jason got up and began walking away, Alfred picked up the book he left behind on the desk. “William Shakespeare’s MacBeth?” he questioned.

Jason turned around and nodded.

“A fine choice, indeed, but perhaps a bit out of your age range,” Alfred explained. “There are a lot of complex themes in this book. Perhaps you would like Alice in Wonderland better?”

“I’m not stupid,” the boy retorted with every ounce of anger seeping into his voice.

“Of course not, Master Jason,” Alfred smoothly countered, “but you are too young to understand some of the more complicated themes—like MacBeth’s shift from being a noble hero to a tyrannical villain.”

“I thought it was because the power got to his head,” Jason jabbed back. “He was already a hero, but when he saw that he could have more, he took the opportunity without a second thought. Not much different than people in real life.”

“I see you have done your readings. A true literary fan, are we?” Alfred was impressed, considering the boy had lived on the streets, knowing the plays so well was quite a feat. Jason was beaming. “Might I ask how you were able to gain such great appreciation at such a young age?”

Jason flushed at the compliment and became notably more at ease. “There was this old man that used to have a lot of books that he was hoarding. I think it was somewhere around the docks. I used to come by everyday. I wasn’t really good at reading until I met Dickie, but I liked reading more than him. So, we used to go and read there together.” He smiled.

“But then we met Tim,” Jason continued, “and Dickie said we weren’t allowed to go there anymore. He didn’t even like it when I went by myself— said the guy was creeping him out. I didn’t see it though because I really liked his books. Turns out, Dickie was right. The guy wasn’t…a good guy. Dickie didn’t tell me, but I heard he was kidnapping kids and stuff for money. The police arrested him and took all his books too.” Jason stopped once he realized he was rambling.

“I’m sorry to hear that Master Jason,” Alfred offered sympathetically. 

“Yeah, but I guess I kinda see it like MacBeth. He started out as a really good guy who just wanted to share his books, and then the minute he gets money, he ended being…” Jason trailed off looking sorrowfully distraught. 

Alfred looked at the poor boy, whose trust was so quickly broken in the streets of Gotham. “My dear boy,” he said. “There’s a big difference between that situation and MacBeth. The Shakespeare plays had magic, witches, castles, armies—but here in Gotham, life is what it is. Literature may be made to represent reality, but that just gives us theatre lovers the upperhand. We know their next move even before they know it. Those buffoons will never know the power of literature like we do.” Alfred smiled and winked. That earned a small giggle from Jason.

More at ease, Jason allowed himself to relax in Alfred presence. It was nice to see the usually so cautious boy let down his guard and give a genuine smile.

“How about we make a deal, Master Jason? You go to bed now, and tomorrow we’ll read some classics together. It will be pleasant to finally have someone to talk to about great pieces of art. Master Bruce doesn’t have quite the eye for literature that you do,” Alfred finished as he held out his hand.

Jason looked at gesture inquisitively and smiled, “You got a deal old guy.” He spat into his own hand and roughly shook Alfred’s. A sign, Alfred supposed, of good faith and promise. “I’ll head upstairs with Tim and Dickie.”

Jason left the room notably much happier than he had been the entire night. Despite the gross spit-handshake, it was endearing to see such enthusiasm blossom from reading. It gave Alfred hope this family might actually work out.

***

Meanwhile, in the back streets of Gotham, Batman and Selina were fighting a crowd of large, drunk, barbarians. 

“You need a lady to hold your hand Batman?!” one yelled as he swung a pipe at Batman’s head. Batman narrowly dodged but before he could punch back with his own attack, a whip wrapped around the man’s hand and pulled him backwards, tripping over his own feet.

“So what if he does?” Selina replied back, standing as tall and proud as ever. While her handkerchief covered the bottom half of her face (mostly likely hiding a devious grin), her eyes were visible, reflecting something like danger, viciousness, challenge, and calm intensity. 

God, Bruce loved her.

“Batman! Are you just going to sit there or are you going to help me?” Selina chided as recoiled her whip. Batman snapped back into reality as all five men came rushing at the duo.

It was funny, Bruce thought, or strange that the two of them could fight so perfectly together. There fought like a well-oiled machine despite never really training together. It was as if she knew his next move before even he did. It was stupid, but Bruce thought their fight was almost like dancing. He was happy he had finally found the right dance partner.

The pair tore through the group of drunkards swiftly, knocking them out one by one. Despite the number and muscle advantage the group had against them, Batman and Selina had the advantage of agility and not-being-drunk on their side. The fight was over before it even began. With most of the men unconscious or screaming for their mommies on the floor, that left the duo to interrogate the man they came to see, Big Bill.

Batman picked the scumbag off the ground and slammed him into the wall. “I want answers. What do you know of about the missing kids?” he demanded.

“Lotsa kids go missing here Bats. Gonna have to be more clear,” the brute replied with a sneer and spat right onto the Batcrest.

Selina stepped next to him and furiously threatened, “Listen fatso we don’t have time for your games. Tells us what you know or you can say goodbye to—“

“Enough. I’m handling this,” the Bat said, seeing as how he was losing control of the interrogation. 

“Aw, look at that kitten. Need your boytoy to keep you line in?” Bill slurred. 

Batman slammed him into the wall one more time and tried to ignore the man’s ungodly bad alcohol breath. “Answers. Now.”

“Yesh man, I’m telling you the truth.” Bill answered with a bit more panic now. “I don’t keep count of every kid I see. You need to be more clear, Bastard.”

“A boy. Around 12. Henry Hughes. Last seen with you about 3 weeks ago,” Batman curtly supplied. 

“Henry the Hustler. Yea, I remember the little brat. I haven’t seen him in forever,” Bill informed the duo. “Used to try to sell old junk. Would come by here often to sell to the guys.”

“He’s been reported missing by his older brother for 3 weeks now. His brother said the last place anyone had seen him was with you,” Batman pushed Bill a little harder into the wall. “What else do you know?”

“Look buddy all I know is that the kid would come around to sell stuff to me and the guys. Sometimes we bought but sometimes we didn’t. Last time I saw him he said that it was the last we were seeing him because he found better pay at some place down in the Eastern quad of the slums with a couple of his buddies. That’s the last I ever heard of the kid. I don’t know nothing,” Bill ended with a snarl. 

Batman dropped him and turned to walk away. “Thank you for your help,” he said sarcastically. Then addressed Selina, “Let’s go, we’re done here.”

Before the two could sprint off, Bill piped up, “For all we know, you could be the one stealing the damn kids. Already stole a few for yourself.”

“Excuse us?” Selina inquired, both angered and curious.

“That’s right lady. Your boyfriend is a goddamn kidnapper. He stole three of my best little boys right out of my hands,” Bill replied, trying to get his feet under him. “What you do to my perfect little con robins, Batman? Got them locked up in your dungeon? What kind of man dresses up as a bat anyway? A fuckin creep.”

“Let’s go,” Batman repeated addressing Selina, “He’s not worth our time.”

As the two walked away, Bill continued to mock and shout at them. “Batman is a kid-snatcher!” The drunken man proclaimed. “Hide your little ones or he’ll get them! Those boys were fine with me, bastard! I gave them a fuckin job! Its because of me that they even got food! And what did I get in return?! A broken fuckin arm from the fuckin kid-snatcher Batman! Those kids wouldn’t be around without me!”

At that comment, Bruce snapped and ran back towards Big Bill, punching him in the gut. Bruce got in a few punches and kicks to the scumbag before Selina had to pry him off. He was furious.

He crouched to the man currently on the ground with an intimidating aura. “Don’t think I didn’t see the bruises and scars on those boys that night,” Bruce breathed through his teeth. “The only thing you gave them was pain. They made their own survival possible. And if you so much as think of them, I will hunt you down, understand?”

He didn’t really expect any answer. Batman left the man crumpled and nearly unconscious on the floor as he walked away. From the side of his view, he could see Selina worryingly eyeing him. It didn’t really matter though, he said what needed to be said.

The next moment came in a bit of a blur to Bruce. Still steaming with anger, he didn’t notice Bill was still conscious enough to understand anything he said. He also didn’t notice the broken shard from one of the bottles lying hear Bill’s hand, nor did he see when Bill try to make one last pathetic attempt to kill him by going for his torso. But Selina did.

“No!” Batman said as he reacted to Selina’s cry of pain. He swiftly and violently knocked Bill unconscious for real this time. 

Without missing a beat, Bruce quickly grabbed Selina and brought her to his motorcycle. Within minutes, the duo were racing back towards the Manor while Selina bled from a cut under her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what ya think fam

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments, tips, constructive criticism and all that jazz is welcomed!


End file.
